


call me a thief (there's been a robbery)

by ohmygodfoxtrot



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-11-15 19:24:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18079460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmygodfoxtrot/pseuds/ohmygodfoxtrot
Summary: Kent feels the burn cross his right wrist as he lifts the memorial cup with Jack, his best friend, and he’s sure that everyone is a little confused by how quickly he hands it off and rushes off the ice.Back in the locker room, he rips his helmet and glove off, and stares at the name.Jack Laurent Zimmermann





	1. Kent

**Author's Note:**

> this is a soulmate au where you receive your soulmates full name on your wrist as soon as you believe you're worthy of their love.
> 
> I blame the posse for encouraging me.

    Kent feels the burn cross his right wrist as he lifts the memorial cup with Jack, his best friend, and he’s sure that everyone is a little confused by how quickly he hands it off and rushes off the ice. 

 

    Back in the locker room, he rips his helmet and glove off, and stares at the name. 

 

_ Jack Laurent Zimmermann _

 

__ “Kenny? You okay?”

 

     He whips around, and it’s Jack, and Kent feels the tear run down his cheek. 

 

     “It’s you.”

 

     “What’s me?”

 

     Kent grins. Jack always was slow, and when they’d talked about soulmarks before, Jack had always brushed it off, avoided the subject gently, but Kent knows there’s no way he can brush this off. He crosses the room, and presses his forehead to Jack’s helmet, laughing like a maniac. 

 

      “Your name, Jack Laurent Zimmermann, is on my goddamn wrist.”

 

     Jack breaks into a grin too. “Really?”

 

     “Yup. They were right. It burns, in the best possible way.” He pulls his head away. “Let’s get back out there before people start wondering where we went. We’re celebrating the fuck out of the cup, and then we’re finding somewhere quiet and kissing the shit out of each other, cause I’ve seen the way you check out my ass, so don’t even try to pretend we’re a platonic bond-

 

    “Kenny!”

 

    “Argue that. Argue with me, Zimms, cause we’re soulmates and you’re amazing and I’m amazing, and I want to stop beating around the bush, cause we’ve got thirty four days before we get drafted, and we’re making the most of it, baby!” Kent punches the air, and a teammate sticks their head in the door. 

 

    “You two better have a good reason for fucking off the second we won.”

 

    “Kenny had to barf.” Jack says smoothly, and Kent pushes down something in his gut. He’ll figure it out later. 

 

     “Yeah, don’t know what that was about. All good now though. Let’s go celebrate this shit!”

 

     Hours later, Kent doesn’t know how many, he and Jack are kissing in their hotel hallway, pleasantly buzzed and trying to make the keycard work so they can get in. Well, Jack’s trying, and Kent is kissing his neck, not even sure why. Someone could see them, and that would be a disaster, and the sooner they get into the room, the sooner they can get to what Kent really wants, which they definitely can’t do in a hotel hallway. 

 

     He hears the click, and then Jack is opening the door, guiding him in, pushing him over towards one of the beds, kissing his mouth like his life depends on it, and Kent can’t help but lean into it, fight Jack a little on it. Kent pushes Jack to sit down on the bed, sits on Jack’s lap, kisses him with tongue. 

 

    He’s sure his name will show up on Jack’s wrist with time. 

 

    In the meantime, he’s gonna do everything he can to make it clear that Jack deserves that. 

 

    He moves down Jack’s body, slides off his lap, gets down on his knees in front of Jack, looks up at him as if to say  _ this okay?  _ And Jack nods his head, run his fingers through Kent’s hair, so Kent pulls Jack’s pants down, his underwear with them, and takes a moment to assess his cock. 

 

    “C’mon, Kenny, you’ve seen me naked before, get on with it.” Jack sounds out of breath, and Kent hasn’t even touched him yet. 

 

    “Yeah, but I’ve never gotten to look, so give me a minute.” Kent laughs, and then decides fuck looking, he’s just gonna go for it. So he licks up the underside, takes the head in his mouth, adds a little bit of suction, and Jack lets out a groan. 

 

    Kent pushes a little further down, and that has Jack grasping at the sheets on the bed. Kent’s never done this before, and he’s not really sure he wants to try deepthroating tonight, so he takes his hands and places one on Jack’s thigh, the other on the base of his cock, starts moving it in sync with his head, and notices the name on his wrist again. 

 

_ Jack Laurent Zimmermann _

 

__ He’s so happy he has his now. 

 

    He honestly isn’t sure why he didn’t get it earlier. He always thought he was worthy of a soulmate, but something about lifting the cup with Jack had made something inside of him click, know that he deserves Jack, his partner in crime, the one he’d been pining over for as long as he knew him, and now here he was, on his knees for Jack, and Jack is gasping for breath and telling him to- stop?

 

    “What?” Kent is a little confused.

 

    It’s Jack’s turn to laugh. “You’re a little too good at that, and I want you to fuck me tonight.”

 

    Kent grins. “You got stuff?”

 

    Jack gives him a look. “I heard you sneak out and come back with that plastic bag the other night. You left the receipt on the bathroom counter. Didn’t know why you’d done it, until now.”

 

    Kent rolls his eyes. Of course Jack had known he’d bought condoms and lube, and wondered where he was gonna use them. 

 

    “Yeah, okay, fine, they’re in my bag. I’ll grab them.”

 

    Kent stands up and grabs the stuff, and when he turns back around, Jack has maneuvered out of his shirt, and for the first time, Kent gets to just- stare. 

 

    When Jack notices, he blushes, looks down, tries to hide behind his arms, and Kent isn’t having that. He walks over to him. 

 

    “Hey.”

 

    Jack looks up at him. “What?”

 

    “You know you’re fucking gorgeous, right?”

 

    Jack looks away, but nods. Kent nods too. “Good.”

 

    And then he climbs onto the bed, and Jack crawls up next to him, and Kent spends an absurd amount of time prepping him, because one, everything he’s read says that’s super important, and two, it’s hot to see Jack squirming around and fucking himself on Kent’s fingers, and when they finally get situated and Kent rolls on the condom and pushes into him, it feels absolutely perfect, and Kent can’t help but let out a moan. 

 

    “God, Zimms, you’re so hot.”

 

    Jack grits his teeth, and closes his eyes, like he’s trying to focus on anything but the feeling of Kent’s dick in his ass. 

 

    “Hurry up.”

 

    Kent obliges, picking a pace that feels sustainable, deciding that he’s not gonna do that porn shit and mindlessly shove his dick around, instead focusing on Jack’s face, and he’s know he’s found the right angle when Jack grips at the sheets again and squeezes his eyes shut. 

 

    “Kenny, I’m not gonna last.”

 

    “Then come, Zimms.”

 

    He does, and then Kent does, and it may be over quicker than Kent would like it to be, but he pulls out, ties the condom up, and tosses it in the bedside garbage can. 

 

    Jack is smiling at him, and he smiles back, before patting Jack’s thigh and saying “You should probably go get cleaned up.”

 

    Jack stands up, wobbles for a second, then regains his balance and walks into the bathroom. Kent finds his sleepshirt, changes into it, and then gets into the bed they didn’t fuck in and settles in. 

 

    It’s only when he wakes up that he realizes Jack had never joined him, and instead slept in the other bed. 


	2. Chapter 2

    They’re six days away from the draft when the fight happens. 

 

    Jack still doesn’t have Kent’s name. 

 

    Jack hates it. He cares about Kent, but he doesn’t know what to do to help the mark develop. 

 

    Well, he knows what he has to do. He has to believe he’s worthy of his soulmate. 

 

    But how the hell is he supposed to do that when he’s useless? He’s a fuckup and a disaster and generally terrible at most things, and really, what part of him is loveable?

 

    The one thing he has going for him, his skill at hockey, means he’s constantly being compared to his dad. And really, who could live up to Bob Zimmermann?

 

    So he and Kent laze around, have great sex, and mostly avoid the topic of the name on Kent’s wrist, and the absence of one on Jack’s.

 

    Until that night. 

 

    It’s standard post-coital cuddling, until Kent hesitantly takes Jack’s right arm and presses a kiss to it. 

 

    “I wish you could see what I did.”

 

    Jack says it before he can even think. 

 

    “What, an ex chubby kid with stretchmarks?”

 

    Kent rolls up onto his elbows, looking outraged and pitying at the same time. “Do you think I only care about your body?”

 

    Jack slowly shrugs. “I don’t care that you do?”

 

    Kent stares at him for a moment, angry and bewildered, before speaking.

 

    “Zimms, I don’t have your goddamn name on my wrist, cosmically binding me to you, because you’ve got abs. I have it there because we’re meant for each together, and if you really think I’m so fucking shallow that I’m only gonna want to fuck you for the rest of my life, then we’ve got bigger problems than I thought.”

 

    Jack looks at him. “You… already thought we had problems?”

 

    Kent shakes his head. “Never mind. Forget I said that.”

 

    “No, I’m not forgetting that you apparently think we have problems. What problems? Kent, this only works if you talk to me.”

 

    Kent sits up and huffs out a breath, look towards the foot of the bed. “Wow. I’m looking at it, and they all tie into the fact that you apparently think I only find you physically attractive.”

 

     “I mean, you didn’t say anything about what you wanted.”

 

     Kent raises an eyebrow at that and looks at him. “I am going to remind you that we are soulmates, and that we learned in health class that even though soulmate bonds can take any form, the vast majority take a romantic one. ”

 

    “We’re not a health class statistic, Kenny, we’re real people, and I didn’t want to assume what you wanted!”

 

    “Why would I not want everything with you?”

 

    “Because I’m a terrible person, okay! I’m messed up and I’m only fine when I’m on anxiety medication and I don’t know why the hell you would want to be with me, ever!”

 

    Kent’s face clouds instantly. “So that’s why my name hasn’t come through.”

 

    “Why? Because you’re better than I’ll ever be?” Jack can feel the tears welling up in his eyes. 

 

    “God, Jack, this is what I was talking about! You’re not.”

 

    “Just… drop it, Kenny, okay?”

 

    “No, I’m not fucking dropping it. My name hasn’t come through on your wrist because apparently you think you’re a shitty person. I’m your soulmate. It’s kind of my business.”

 

    Jack feels anger rising in him at that. He snaps. “Why do you care so much? You’ve got my name, and I’m stuck with you.”

 

    Kent looks indignant. “Stuck with me? You’re stuck with me? Wow, Zimms, tell me how you really feel.”

 

    Jack sighs. “Kent, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. Look, we can do mark therapy, or couple’s therapy, or whatever you want-”

 

    Kent hops out of bed, finds his sweatpants on the floor, pulls them back on. “I think we’re a little beyond therapy at this point.”

 

    Five days later, Jack deliberately and methodically swallows each of the forty seven anxiety pills he has, counting them as he goes, if only to keep his mind on something other than what he’s doing, writes goodbye messages in the notes app of his phone, and then lays down on the hotel floor to die. 

 

    Two days after that, he wakes up in a hospital bed, with his parents at his side, and Kent halfway across the continent, signed to a hockey team, starting training camp in Las Vegas. 

 

    Jack speaks two languages, and together, they aren’t enough to describe how relieved he is that that isn’t his fate. 

 

    His parents manage to keep him out of psychiatric inpatient, which the hospital desperately wants to put him in. Instead, Bob and Alicia get him into a rehab facility near Quebec. When the intake forms ask about soulmate status, Jack ticks off “Unpresented” and resolves to keep it that way. He doesn’t care if it means hating himself for the rest of his life. He’s not gonna do anything else that decides his life path for him. 

 

    He hesitates a little before he ticks up “Partner(s) unknown”. Jack ignores the feeling in his gut that he’s betraying Kent somehow, but Kent is the one that didn’t communicate, didn’t say what he wanted, pushed Jack away when Jack needed him, and they’re never gonna work out, so why should a name on a wrist decide anything?

 

The nurse asks “All done?” and Jack hands her the forms. 


End file.
